


Black Out Days

by bioswear



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/F, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Survival, Tension, the wilds au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29472108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioswear/pseuds/bioswear
Summary: "The Wings of Freedom Young Women's Retreat is a way to re-center yourself, to find out who you truly are and what you're capable of. The journey of self-discovery and identity is never-ending, and here at Wings of Freedom you, and countless other girls like yourselves, will learn how to best spread your wings and fly."The promises of a young women's retreat goes awry, and nowhere on her washed up itinerary did Mikasa see "Survive on a deserted island" listed between Meditative Yoga and Expressive Painting, at 12 and 2 respectively.--------------------------------------------------------------------------/ A 'The Wilds (2020) AU because I like to make these girls suffer in other ways than is canon-compliant /
Relationships: Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Ymir, Mikasa Ackerman & Sasha Blouse, Mikasa Ackerman/Annie Leonhart, Pieck Finger & Annie Leonhart
Comments: 17
Kudos: 24





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! It's been so long since I've done anything for SnK and I'm sorry that this old hyperfixation's resurfaced LOL  
> While I haven't really kept up or support the source material anymore, there's nothing that says I can't scoop the characters I like and adopt them as my own. 
> 
> Anyway! This fic is an extremely self-indulgent and deeply cathartic AU of the Amazon Prime series 'The Wilds (2020), which really felt like a fullbody scrub but for my soul. Not sure about anyone else but I really lived vicariously through the release of stress and expectations that the girls had on the island. I thought it might be quite fitting to toss the SNK girls in to the same puzzle-box situation, but with different circumstances. 
> 
> No beta we die like Girls, Gays, and Theys.

“Your name is Mikasa Ackerman, age 18. Shiganshina District in Maria City, correct?” 

“Yes.” 

“And we have your full consent to conduct our questions?”

“I’m sitting in front of you, aren’t I?” Her voice was hoarse, quiet and fractured. There was an added shortness behind her words, too. 

There’s a thick pause, then the clearing of a throat.

“Right. Before we start, I’m Dr. Erwin Smith, and this is my colleague, Agent, uh - “ He laughs, perhaps a little too forcefully. “Also Ackerman. Any relation, perhaps?” 

“Just Levi, is fine.” It’s a curt response, and Mikasa finds that she appreciates it. 

A tension fills the spartan room that they’re sat in, Mikasa seated on one side of the wooden table and the two men seated side by side on the opposite. Erwin has a strange expression, and Mikasa guesses he wishes he hadn’t made such a flop of a joke, clear that neither Mikasa or Levi had found the coincidence of their last names matching funny.

The man’s strange expression passes, settling for a pleasant neutralness. 

He speaks again, resting his hands on the table. “I just want to reiterate that this is nothing more than a conversation. The events around your circumstances are vague and uncertain. We only want to do what’s best for you, and help right the wrongs that happened to you and the other girls.”

His tone is calm, reassuring. It sets Mikasa on edge, and she drops her gaze in a feint of tiredness only so as to not look at the men across from her. 

“Tell us a little about yourself. What was life like for you before the traumatic incidents of the island?”

Mikasa stiffens briefly, and she scoffs. She feels the pull of a cynical smirk at her lips and she shakes her head. 

“Is that what the others told you?” She inquires, looking between Erwin and Levi. 

“We haven’t spoken to anyone else yet. You’re our first.” 

“So, then… that was just your assumption, right? That there was trauma? That the island was hell on earth?” She locks eyes with Erwin briefly, unable to read him. 

She lets out a dry laugh once more, mostly to herself than anything. She regards them with an unreadable expression in her grey eyes. 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong - what happened on that island was traumatic. Of course it was. To wake up stranded in open water with no recollection - “ Her voice catches, a sting at the back of her throat. She pauses, regaining composure. “To end up where we did, the things we lost…” 

The last part is uttered quietly, hardly louder than a whisper. 

“You guys can pour hours and hours and hours into scouring every square inch of that island searching for the cause, but you won’t find it. Not there.” 

She leans back in her seat. Her gaze wanders, falling on a discolored patch of concrete, just shy of Levi’s perfectly shined shoe. 

“Which is the real question, isn’t it?” Grey eyes flicker to meet Erwin’s, waiting patiently for an answer. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure I follow --” Erwin starts, brow furrowing. 

“What the fuck was so good about the lives we left behind?” The impact of her question leaves a long, lingering silence in its wake. 

Mikasa grips her knees, her still-dirty fingernails digging into the plain denim of the jeans they had provided her with. She bunches the fabric between her fingers, feeling the tension dig into the crook of her knees. 

“Because what I remember from all that is feeling like a constant disappointment, no matter how hard or how long I worked. Pushing myself until I was sick for people I barely knew. I remember feeling like an outcast, and trying so hard to fit in that I lost parts of myself permanently.” She continues, a pointed bite to her words. 

She inhales deeply, pausing as she recalls the moments leading up to the day she boarded the private jet holding promises of recreation in Hawaii. 

There are flashes of angry, green eyes. Furrowed brows and snarled lips. Contempt. She thinks of the exact moment of her brother screaming at her. Her adoptive parents, the Jaegers, tensely and with uncertainty, telling her that she was being sent away for a while, until things with Eren calmed down. She recalls the waves of rejection and abandonment, as, for the first time, her perfect world began crumbling around her. 

Levi clears his throat, loudly and impatiently. The sound snaps her back to the present. 

Mikasa inhales sharply, resuming her account for them. 

“I remember being told who to be, how to behave, what to say and when - all these people thinking they knew what was best for you without regard or care for your autonomy, or what you wanted. Nobody ever asked us what we wanted. I remember always trying to find ways to climb down from the pedestal I didn’t even want to be on in the first place.” 

Her brow furrows and something in her gaze hardens. 

“On top of all the bullshit expectations placed on us since kindergarten, there was everything else we had to worry about. School, grades, parties, sexual awakenings, heartbreak, who was going to prom with who, will the dress even fit -- cliche, teen drama shit.”

There’s a harsh emphasis on the last word, betraying just how precise her disillusionment runs. Mikasa leans forward, her hands sliding along the smooth wood of the table before stopping, resting loosely on the surface. Her hair falls further into her face, casting a dark shadow across an apathetic gaze.

“So, if we’re talking about what happened on the island, then yes, it was traumatic. But the real living hell was the world we were taken from. And the real trauma? That was already there, the island is just what brought it out.” 

\--------------

There’s a deep churning sensation in the pit of her stomach that amplifies as she slowly starts to come to. Her head aches, a relentless pounding thick against her skull that echoes in her eyelids. 

Mikasa groans, keeping her eyes firmly shut as she feels something hard and cold press hard against her cheek. She tries to gather her strength - enough to prop herself up with her arms. She tries to will her arms to move, to do anything other than lay there limply.

Her fingers twitch and that’s about it. 

So she just lays there, stomach churning and head pounding. 

There’s a heavy heat beating down on her back, soaking into her dark hair and boring into her like an unwanted hug.

She doesn’t know how long she stays like that, but she decides it's been long enough. Get up, she thinks to herself. Her inner voice is unusually loud. 

And just as she’s barely opened her eyes, a sudden splash of water slaps her face and she recoils, springing backwards and upright. She splutters rapidly, grabbing at her eyes. She feels the bitter sting of salt bring fresh tears.

“Fuck!” She hisses, her teeth clenching together as she pulls her hands from her face. The stinging subsides, but her eyes remain closed. 

She inhales, counting back from three in her head before opening her eyes, for real this time, and when she does the world around her is white, if only for a moment. It only takes a few seconds before the white fades, and a rippling blue seeps into her focus.

Mikasa’s eyes widen and her head jerks upwards in a sick realization. She can feel the thrumming of her heart pick up almost instantly, a violent beat threatening to break her ribs. She can feel her breath quicken as she takes in the careless, blue expanse spread out before her.

She whips her head around, looking frantically in every direction. She’s on the verge of a panic attack, and she vaguely realizes just how thin the line she’s been holding on to with really is. 

There’s a scattering of debris and luggage floating around her, bobbing along the water. The sun glints off of peaks and crests of each wave, and Mikasa decides the scene would be beautiful if not for her being stranded in the middle of open water. 

She opens her mouth and almost startles at hearing her own voice come out. She’s surprised it’s working at all. 

“Hello?!” She shouts, projecting her voice hopefully loud enough for anyone to hear. 

There’s no response. 

Mikasa feels something twist in her chest before settling heavy in her stomach. Disappointment, she IDs it, but at what? She’s not quite sure exactly what else she was expecting. 

The panic begins to bubble once more, threatening to rise and overcome what little composure she has left. Her fingers grip at the wet fabric of the scarf around her neck, clinging to the only familiar thing for miles, whether she realizes it or not.

“Is anyone out there?!” She shouts again, trying once more. She reasons that it’s better than not having tried at all. 

Nothing once more, save for the rhythmic lapping of waves against plastic. 

Mikasa wants to cry. She wants to scream, laugh, shriek.

Mikasa wants to do so many things in the moment - she feels so many things fighting to rise to the surface all at once, threatening a breaking point. It’s too many things.

But instead she just sits there, blinking in the violent sun and feeling absolutely nothing at all. It’s a familiar numbness, and one she’s felt before - when Eren took her violently by the shoulders, shaking her once as he screamed how much he hated her. Her fingers leave the scarf at the memory.

Somewhere behind her there’s a muffled sound and she’s torn from her reverie. Her head whips around, eyes scanning the debris. 

A garish pop-punk ringtone cries out, muffled and far enough away that Mikasa actually isn’t quite sure if she’s imagining it.

A few more seconds go by and the song persists.

She realizes that there are tears rolling down her face as she scrambles off the debris keeping her afloat, plunging off the side and into the water. She swims sloppily towards the source, the drag of her clothing making it hard to move at all.

It takes her a little longer than she wanted to find the suitcase - a purple, shiny thing plastered with stickers - and she quickens her pace until she comes upon it, pulling the piece of luggage into her arms like a lost child. She begins pulling it back to the larger debris she had woken up on, pushing herself to move fast before the ringing stops. She manages to slide the suitcase onto the surface before pulling herself on. 

Her hands fumble with the suitcase and it’s only when Mikasa struggles to get a grip on the small metal tabs that she realizes just how badly her hands are shaking. She clenches her jaw, inhaling deeply in an attempt to settle some of her nerves. 

It seems to work because she’s able to pry open the zipper, fling back the lid, and rummage through clothes and shoes. A brief laugh bubbles up, managing to slip past her lips as her fingers brush against the familiar glass of a phone screen. 

She pulls it out, a little too eagerly perhaps, as it slips from her grip. She juggles it, her motions desperate and messy, before it bounces at just the right angle off of her fingertips and out of reach. It plops heavily into the water, the ringing cut dead instantly. 

Mikasa wastes little time as she dives after it, barely giving herself enough time to inhale. She manages to get a decent way down, but her lack of diving experience and the heavy clothes she has on weigh her down. The phone sinks further out of reach, into impossible depths before vanishing completely. Mikasa feels an unpleasant tension in her lungs and she rushes to resurface. She lets out a violent gasp as her head breaks the water. Her hair clings to her face as she rolls back onto the debris. 

A breathless string of curses escapes from her lips and the familiar sting of tears wells up in her eyes. 

She stays there, flat on her back. Her head pounding, her heart racing.

The gentle and persistent lapping of waves.

The utter silence.

\--------------

“So, that was your first experience with everything.” It isn’t so much a question as it is a reiteration. Mikasa feels an annoyance, but nods silently.

She watches as Erwin scribbles something down in his notepad. 

“Can you tell us what you know about the Wings of Freedom program?” This time it’s Levi that speaks. He still looks annoyed, even though his tone is neutrally soft. 

He slides a pretentious looking packet towards her - emblazoned on the front is a gold crest of wings. 

Mikasa doesn’t touch it, instead she simply rolls her eyes. “Oh, this shit.” 

There is no hiding her resentment.

“I remember the first time I saw this. I was told it was some all expenses paid, all-girl empowerment trip.” She scoffs, leaning back in her seat and folding her arms across her chest. Not in arrogance, but in an ill-veiled attempt at bringing herself some semblance of comfort. “For me, it was an excuse to ship me off, to be the responsibility and problem of someone else temporarily.”

She closes her eyes, allowing herself to think back on the moment she was told to pack her things. It hadn’t exactly been a surprise, but it had caught her off guard.

————————-

It’s been a week since the screaming match with Eren. A week since he opened up about how much he hated her and how she ruined his life and Mikasa has kept largely to herself during that time, staying to the safe confines of her room. She isn’t quite sure why she’s been so avoidant but there’s no denying that a change in dynamics have happened between her and the Jaegers. She isn’t quite sure what to think about that, so she pushes the thought from the forefront of her mind and doesn’t think about it at all. 

Mikasa is seated at her desk, diligent in her academics as usual. She has her AP homework spread out before her in order of priority. Tonight, it's biology. She taps her pen against her notebook, re-reading the information several times. It isn’t sticking, and she’s about to give up when she hears a knock at her door. It’s gentle, and from the other side she can hear the soft voice of Carla Jaeger calling out to her. 

“Mikasa? Are you busy? May I come in?” Carla’s request is too polite, and while a daunting feeling settles in her stomach Mikasa can’t help but grant her adoptive mother entry to her room. 

“You can come in.” 

The door opens with a soft creak, and the kind face of Carla appears in the empty space between door and frame. 

“Mikasa,” Carla starts, opening her door fully and stepping inside. She closes it gently behind her, the only noise being the soft click of the knob. “I just wanted to check in on you. I know things have been… strained, lately.” Mikasa sets her pen down, turning her attention fully to the older woman. 

“It’s okay. I kind of expected this…” She trails off. An uncomfortable silence settles between them. 

“Well -” 

Mikasa senses a hesitation in Carla’s voice. Her grey eyes meet her green ones and Mikasa can’t help but instinctively avert her gaze. She’s too reminded of the vitriol seen in Eren’s same eyes. 

“Actually, it might be best if you just come downstairs. Grisha and I would both like to talk to you about something.” There’s a hint of remorse painting her words, and Mikasa looks at her with a questioning uncertainty. She says nothing and simply nods.

“Can I ask what about?” 

“You’re not in trouble, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll make us some cocoa and then we’ll explain everything downstairs.”

Mikasa simply nods, silently following Carla from her room, down the familiar path and around the corner to the stairs. She can see the bright lights from the kitchen reflecting on the wood, casting intense shadows from the railing. 

Everything from the moment she stops on the bottom landing goes by in one long, continuous blur. She’s sitting in a seat towards one end of the table, vaguely aware of just how much distance is between her and the Jaegers, who are at the other end, sitting close to one another. Her mug of cocoa, topped with marshmallows, sits warmly between her hands 

“We think it’s best that there’s some distance between you and Eren, for now.” That was obvious. That made sense. Mikasa is glad that at least her adoptive parents recognized the toxicity growing in their household. She almost drops her guard, almost sighs in relief.

“We’ve decided to send you on this two-week long retreat.” Her head snaps up, eyes wide. Her usual stoicism is gone in an instant. 

“W-what do you mean?” She stutters. She never does that. 

“We just think it might be a good idea if there was some separation between you and Eren for now. We’ve been talking to a psychologist about it, and that was her recommendation that Eren take priority for now.” Carla offers her an explanation, her face set in a look of concern as she waits for Mikasa to respond. 

“This isn’t a punishment, Mikasa.” Grisha adds, a little too callously for the situation. It certainly feels like a punishment, Mikasa thinks. 

“We talked it over and we both agreed that you being here while Eren gets adjusted to his new psychologist would agitate him. He probably hasn’t told you, but he envies your abilities and you know how he gets when he’s jealous.” There it was - the real truth behind their decision to ship her off was, of course, first and foremost for Eren’s sake. She makes a mental note that they don’t broach the topic of what he screamed at her, and suddenly the implication is that they blame her mostly for how things transpired. 

That’s ridiculous, she chides herself internally, banishing the thought that the Jaeger’s would ever treat with such ill contempt. Not after they took her in at the age of five, after the grisly murder of her birth parents. They’re too kind for that. It’s an unfounded notion, but it still tugs at the back of her mind.

“We’re also doing it for your safety, as well. We don’t know how things will go now that we’re monitoring your brother. We don’t want you getting hurt.” The last part feels particularly insensitive, and although she doubts Carla means anything by it she can’t help but wonder if Carla dismisses emotional pain as a valid definition of the word. 

“Now, the program is called the ‘Wings of Freedom’ Young Women’s Retreat. Dr. Yelena gave us the name of the person who runs it, Hange Zoe. We called them and explained the situation, and after a little back and forth we reached an agreement that all expenses would be covered for you.”

Mikasa doesn’t respond, simply nods, and excuses herself from the table. She thanks them on her way up. She doesn’t know what for. They’ve given her no reason for gratitude. She still doesn’t know why. 

The next week finds her in the back of the Jaeger’s car, saddled with a suitcase stuffed full of clothes and other things at the insistence of Carla. She has her earbuds in and a wistful stare focused on the passing scenery, all with the intention of listening to music - but she never presses play. She catches Grisha and Carla giving each other brief, wordless glances in the way that adults did when she was younger. It feels patronizing. 

She deliberately sighs, and Carla looks back at her. “We’re almost there, Mika.” She pats her on the knee, drumming out a quick tap, tap, pat of sympathy, her hand warm as it lingers before withdrawing. 

“Hopefully this retreat will be enough time to help stabilize things, and get you and your brother out of this funk that you two are in.” 

Mikasa sighs, trying hard to not roll her eyes. “I’m not sure if a fight where someone yells “I hate you” can be classified as a “funk.” Her response is snarkier than she intended, and she silently curses herself for being so defensive. 

They finish the car ride in tense silence - Mikasa eventually does press play on her music and resigns her last ten minutes amongst familiar faces to staring wistfully out the window. 

\--------------

Another interruption pulls Mikasa from her memories. It’s Erwin’s voice, this time. “Ok. That’s helpful, thank you.” He shuffles papers before continuing. “Now, let’s skip ahead a little. When you arrived at the plane, did you know any of the other girls before? What about Ilse Langnar?”

Erwin turns his gaze to her, boring into her with a new intensity she hadn’t felt before. Mikasa sinks a little in her chair, feeling herself buckle slightly under his eye. She averts her gaze.

“She was the first to go.”

“Go?” 

“She didn’t even make it through the first night.” Mikasa inhales, thinking back on how Ilse had collapsed, dead on the spot and in her arms. She shudders. She doesn’t want to think about that, let alone talk about it. “She was the only one who came alone.”

She’d rather talk about the brief time before everything went to shit, on the plane heading towards Hawaii. "Ilse was the only solo girl. Everyone else came in pairs, or at least were acquainted with one another in some way."

\--------------

After the briefest exchange of farewells she’s ever had in her life, Mikasa finds herself climbing the steps to the private jet. While she’s not particularly entranced by the whole ordeal, she can’t say she isn’t impressed at the lavish interior that greets her when she steps through the entrance. The other girls are seated already, and Mikasa places her gaze anywhere but on the smiling faces looking up at her as she passes by.

Mikasa ends up seated by the back of the plane, a single row in front of two girls - another sullen girl who has her hood drawn up and is turned away towards the window, intentionally obscuring her face, and a chill-looking, dark-haired girl sitting in the seat next to her. She offers a quick nod, casting one final glance at the strange duo before sinking into her chair. 

_What a cold bitch_ , she thinks offhandedly as she settles into the seat in the row ahead of them. She’s deeply aware of how hypocritical she’s being, ultimately doing the same thing as the hooded girl, just in a less obvious manner. 

She pulls the earbuds from their case, placing them in and quickly pressing play. The hum and chatter and laughter of the other, more sociable girls fades instantly and Mikasa feels her agitation recede. She also settles for staring out the window, watching as airport crew run to and fro, making sure operations run as usual. Her fingers play with the fraying edges of her scarf, a reminder of Eren and the only thing familiar to her now.

The window grows boring after a few minutes, and she settles for observing the other girls. It’s a varied group, and Mikasa is secretly thankful that there’s more diversity than she had first been anticipating. And almost all of them had ended up coming in coincidental pairs - Mikasa thinks back on the strange feeling that flooded her chest upon seeing Sasha Braus, a bubbly brunette with an incredible penchant for all things food that she knew from her school.

So, two familiar things. Sort of.

She and Sasha weren’t particularly close - Sasha ran in the dramedy club circles and Mikasa ran in no circle. She doesn’t remember really ever having a full conversation with the other girl. She wonders why she never changed that. Sasha seems a nice enough girl, sociable but weird enough that she probably wouldn't snub her like the others.

She continues to study and watch the other girls - Sasha talking excitedly to a much shorter blonde girl and a tanned brunette with a full smattering of freckles across her nose. Mikasa makes note of the possessive arm slung around the thin shoulders of the blonde. Her eyes turn to another pair - Another freckled girl with dark hair is sitting and attentively listening to a sandy-haired, catlike girl and her pigtailed companion. 

Mikasa feels a shy tap on her shoulder, and turns around. She’s face to face with the dark-haired girl from before, who has taken to leaning on the headrest of her seat and resting her cheek on her hands. 

“I’m Pieck.” She offers Mikasa a little smile and her hand, holding it out for Mikasa to shake. She doesn’t shake Piecks’ hand, but offers the nicest smile she can muster.

“Mikasa. It’s nice to meet you.” She says, and she reasons that it was the correct thing because Pieck’s smile broadens slightly as she leans back in her seat. She looks satisfied at having caught Mikasa’s attention and roping her into conversation. 

“That’s Annie.” Pieck says, pointing lazily at the hooded girl still sitting with her back turned. There’s no indication that Annie heard her companion, so Pieck leans forward slightly as if to whisper a secret to Mikasa. “Don’t worry, it’s not personal. She might seem like a big, antisocial badass but she’s really just a five-foot softie.” 

That elicits a response from the other girl. She finally turns to them, extending her arm and middle finger towards Pieck. “Fuck you.” Her voice is bored, monotonous, and Mikasa can’t discern if the other girl - blonde, now that she’s able to see hair peeking from beneath the hood - is serious in her offense or not. Pieck laughs, answering her unspoken question. 

Before Mikasa can say anything else, the click of the plane’s intercom interrupts the hum of the various conversations. It’s the simple take-off announcement and Mikasa feels the plane jolt as it begins to roll down the runway. Moments later and they’re in the air, the saccharine introduction video plays upon their ascent, and finally they’re cruising at a steady altitude.

Mikasa settles in, resuming her music and closing her eyes. She’s intent on taking a nap, feeling the heaviness settle in her eyes. No such luck. She hears cheerful clapping as the short blonde and her girlfriend both stand up. The taller girl lets out an obnoxious “Shut up!” and the cabin falls quiet, all eyes on them. 

“Ymir, that’s too rude!” The shorter girl chides, placing her hands on her hips and pouting up at Ymir. “But thank you.” She smiles eventually, turning her big blue eyes to the rest of them. “Hello everyone! I’m Krista, and this is Ymir. How does everyone feel about doing some ice breakers?” 

There’s a mixed response, generally positive. It’s the other freckled girl that stands up, a wide grin on her face. “Oh! Hi everyone, I'm Ilse Langnar! How about “Never Have I Ever? Except the version I played you take a drink every time --” 

“Maybe not!” Krista’s cheerful reply effectively shuts down the drinking idea. “How about something simpler, like… Twenty Questions!” She begins walking down the aisle, pulling at the wrists of the other girls and beginning to swap their seating order. 

Mikasa watches as Krista pairs the girls off. She’s drawing nearer and nearer, pulling Ymir behind her, and Mikasa feels a sudden surge of social anxiety as she stops in front of her.

“We’ll probably have a group of three, if - “ Krista trails off as Annie turns away, tucking herself towards the window once more. “Or not. Here.” She tugs at Mikasa’s wrist, pulling her from the seat and plops Ymir down, who protests loudly but relents at a particularly pointed look from the short girl. 

Krista leads her back to the two open seats. Mikasa sits tentatively, and puts her phone away as Krista begins to talk to her. She learns that Krista comes from Trost, has an older half-sister named Frieda, and that she and Ymir do baking streams on the weekends. Mikasa's smile doesn't quite reach her eyes, and she glances back at where Pieck and Ymir are chatting idly. She doesn't see Annie, and assumes the reclusive girl's gone to the restroom. 

She's about to address Krista when a violent jolt shakes them, stilling all conversation and replacing it in favor of frightened yelps and screams. The turbulence continues, perhaps getting worse with each second, and Mikasa has a single thought. No, perhaps not a thought and more like a regret. Her fingers tighten around the scarf, knuckles white and the fabric straining in her grasp. She regrets how she left things with Eren. How she hadn't seen him for half a month and then was shipped off on a retreat she didn't even want to be on. 

More turbulence. More screams. The lights begin to flicker and her stomach drops with each jerky motion of the jet. 

Mikasa should be crying and screaming, but she isn't. She doesn't feel panic or fear. She's entirely too calm, in the way that anyone looking in from the outside would think there's something wrong with her. She glances around the cabin, at the girls around her. Ymir has moved from the back of the plane to Krista's seat, where she's cradling the girl in her arms protectively. Sasha, bent over with her head tucked beneath her arms and with tears and snot running down her face. She's not sure why, but she glances towards the back of the plane, where Pieck and Annie are. She sees Annie holding Pieck, chin firmly resting on the dark-haired girl's head. Mikasa meets icy-blue eyes, full of protectiveness and fear all at once. Another jolt of turbulence throws Mikasa back into her seat, almost tossing her onto the floor. It's only when she's trying to pull herself back upright that she realizes she feels wrong, that something is off with her. Her body feels heavy, sluggish.

Another shudder of the plane. Another round of screams and cries and panic. 

The smell of smoke. The lurching feeling in her gut. The fog in her head.

It's too much. It's too much of everything.

Then, nothing.  
\--------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And that's chapter 1, folx. The episodes on this show are nearly an hour each, which translates to a very long chapter-length. Depending on how long I have the ambition to work on this, each chapter will be denoted by the Day that the girls are on. Most likely, each "Day" will be multiple segments. While I am trying to avoid doing a full, blatant retelling event-for-event of the actual show, I do like the pacing that's set-up, so I'm trying to follow the main beats as closely as I can.
> 
> Just in case, our girls are: Mikasa, Annie, Pieck, Sasha, Ymir, Krista, Ilse, Mina, and Hitch.
> 
> Anyway! I hope you enjoyed and, if you'd like to see more, let me know what you think in the comments!


	2. Day 1, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _There’s nothing intimate about breathing air into your half-dead, stranger-companion_ , she tells herself.  
> \--------------------------------------------------------------------  
> We're in Part 2 of Day 1, continuing Mikasa's recount of the series of events. More of the beach, more of the girls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you guys for the wildly unanticipated response already to this fic. I honestly didn't have any expectations of getting any attention on here when i started writing, as the original intent was simply pure indulgence and a way to explore different facets of character-building.

“So, you don’t remember anything from the time the plane started malfunctioning to when you woke up on debris?” Erwin asks, his brows creasing in the center. He looks concerned, jotting things down in his notepad. 

“How long do you think you were out there?” Levi asks. Mikasa appreciates his brevity. 

“I don’t know. Maybe two hours? I tried to not think about it.” She replies. She doesn’t care that it isn’t helpful information, it’s the truth. 

“After a while of just drifting, I decided to survey the area again. That’s when I saw Ilse laying on another floating piece of debris.” Mikasa details, scratching at her nose and tucking some of the longer strands of hair behind her ear. 

“When I finally reached her, she was barely conscious. I actually thought she was dead, at first.” Mikasa stares vacantly, her eyes looking past Levi and Erwin and focusing on a spot on the wall behind him. 

“She was singing. It was the same song as the phone.” She offers them a melancholic little smile, swallowing thickly before continuing. 

\--------------

Mikasa drags herself through the water, leaving the safety of her own piece of debris to check on the other girl. Ilse, she thinks she remembers her saying back on the jet - back when the pretense was simply a two-week retreat in Hawaii. 

She reaches Ilse, hearing faintly the echoes of the ringtone before coming from the girls trembling lips. Mikasa places a gentle hand on the other girls’ cheek. “Hey, come on. Stay with me.” She moves her fingers to check the girl’s pulse - it’s faint, but it’s there. She breathes a sigh of relief. “That song - is that your ringtone?”

A faint nod is her only response.

“You’re Ilse, right? That’s your name?” She keeps tapping lightly at Ilse’s cheek, trying to keep her conscious. A groan in response. Mikasa looks around for a moment, unsure of how to further comfort the injured girl. 

Ilse groans, wincing as she lifts her head to glance down at her abdomen. Mikasa turns back, and follows her gaze down to where Ilse is looking, and sees the hand pressed upon an ever-growing bruise. She doesn’t have a lot of medical knowledge, but she thinks that Ilse would be much worse off if she was bleeding internally. “I think you’re just a little roughed up. You’d be doing a lot worse if it was internal bleeding.” She looks back to Ilse’s face, not certain if the girl heard her. 

They bob along in the water in silence, until Ilse raises a weak finger pointed past her. It’s barely audible, but Mikasa hears her whisper, “Look.” 

She turns her head, and the moment she does a flutter of hope rises in her heart as she sees an island on the near horizon. They’re a little ways out, maybe fifty feet, and Mikasa looks between Ilse and the shore. “We’re going to be okay.” There’s relief in her voice.

She grits her teeth, willing her body to muster enough strength to pull Ilse’s pallet and herself to land. 

The first few tries she finds her hand slipping from the smooth surface, and, not wanting to capsize the barely conscious girl, she yanks the scarf from her neck and secures it around an open loop in what she finally recognizes as part of the door. She manages to get a firm grip on the other end of the scarf, using the leverage of her shoulder to help pull Ilse along. 

She doesn’t know how long she swims for, how long she’s been pulling hers and Ilse’s body weight through open water. She’s admittedly exhausted. She can’t tell if her breathing is loud in her head because of adrenaline or if she’s really just that loud, not that it matters. The closer she gets to the black shore of the beach the more she can hear worried yells from the other girls - a mixture of names, frantic with the thought of losing someone loved. She feels a strange comfort in knowing that the others are more or less okay, and that she isn’t completely alone. 

She reaches the shore, her knees skidding against the sand and her hands falling on shards of shell. It stings, but she doesn’t care. Mikasa makes sure to pull Ilse further up and away from the tide, laying her down gently on the sand. She places her ear to her chest, listening for breathing. Silence. She collapses involuntarily at that moment, her strength finally giving out. She groans, rolling onto her back not caring that she’s covered in black sand. 

“HELP!” She yells out as loud as her voice will allow. It’s a little surreal, hearing the strained note in her voice. 

It takes a few moments to hear a response.

Then she hears it.

“HEY! We see you! We’re coming!” She hears what sounds like Sasha call out in response. Mikasa breathes, inhaling deeply and letting her lungs relax for the first time since boarding the jet. She doesn’t know why but hearing Sasha’s voice fills her with a twisted kind of joy. 

She hears people running, footsteps kicking damp sand and the scuffling of knees by her head as Sasha, Mina, and Ymir come to their aid. Sasha is the first to reach them, followed by Ymir and then Mina. Her eyes are closed, so she startles when she feels a cold hand on her cheek. She peers up, looking into the honey-brown eyes of Sasha Braus wearing a look of genuine concern for her on her face. 

“Are you okay, Mikasa?” Sasha asks, leaning back and allowing Mikasa the space to sit up. Mikasa is surprised that she even knows her name, let alone speaks it with such familiarity. She feels a little embarrassed, that in any other situation she would’ve been skeptical of Sasha’s intentions, and feels her face flush slightly at the unexpected care she was being given by a near stranger. She remains on her back, but nods in response.

“I’m fine but Ilse, she’s not breathing.” Mikasa watches as Ymir begins hastened CPR on the girl and makes a mental note that her compressions are too quick, too shallow.

“Ymir, slow down! You’re going too fast.” Sasha berates, voicing Mikasa’s exact thoughts. 

“Not with that shit-ass attitude I’m not!” The tan girl bites back, increasing her compressions to an almost violent degree. None of the girls around are quite sure what to do - if they intervene or let Ymir attempt to resuscitate the girl. Mikasa begins to debate if she should step in despite not being able to feel her arms. 

Sasha’s boldness, apparently, reaches the other girls, who also began interjecting and criticizing the pace Ymir is going at. Mikasa can see the frustration bubble over in the darker freckled girl. “Fine! Then somebody else fucking do it! Who else knows CPR?!” Ymir shouts, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

All hands go up. Despite this, nobody moves to take over. Ymir begins her angry compressions again, losing patience as the girls begin shouting different instructions at her. 

Mikasa can see Ilse paling. She finally resolves to intervene and take over when pale hands enter the scene, nudging Ymir’s out of the way. Mikasa watches as Ymir stops, moving over to allow the other girl to take her place. Mikasa, and the rest it seems, are transfixed as Annie kneels down and presses fully into Ilse’s chest. She repeats the motion perfectly, 30 times each. Her eyes are obscured by the blonde, nearly white hair that falls in her face. 

The remaining girls - Pieck, Hitch, and Krista - come stumbling into the fray. Mikasa notes that Pieck is leaning on Hitch and Krista, an expression masking pain on her face. She sees Krista apologize to greet Ymir, who left upon seeing them arrive, with a tight hug before continuing on to join the rest of the group left huddled around Ilse and Annie. 

A hush falls on the group as they watch Annie wordlessly perform CPR with such an alarming calmness for their situation. 

The tension is palpable, and it seems that the other girls are also holding their breath as they watch Annie work. The blonde alternates between chest compressions and breathing air back into Ilse’s lungs and Mikasa doesn’t know why but she feels like she’s invading an intimate moment and turns her head so that she's looking at the sky. 

_There’s nothing intimate about breathing air into your half-dead, stranger-companion,_ she tells herself, letting her eyes slip closed. 

Finally, after what seems like decades, she hears a spluttering cough and guttural inhale come from Ilse and she exhales for the first time since Annie stepped in. Ilse is still unconscious, but alive, and Mikasa see’s Sasha and Krista hover close to the smaller freckled girl.

Mikasa allows herself to lay back on the sand. She allows her long dark hair to fall however it wants. She allows her eyes to close and her mind to go empty. 

She allows her responsibilities, now that Ilse is saved, to fall far away from the forefront of her mind.

\--------------

Mikasa realizes just how intently Levi and Erwin are staring at her as she recounts the reunion on the beach. 

“So, you all knew CPR to some degree?” Erwin asks, one thick brow raised as he looks at her. She can read the question in his eye easily. 

“I know - isn’t that weird?” She looks between them briefly. “That every one of us knew something about CPR?”  
She watches as Levi scribbles something down. “Is that important enough to take note of?” She asks as she tries to get a look at the paper. 

“Probably.” Came the short reply. 

“A full recount of everything that happened is vital for our investigation.” Erwin explains as he offers her a small smile. “Everything you tell us - about the flight, the moments after the crash, the other girls, what caused the decision to put you on that plane in the first place.” 

The mood shifts, and Mikasa pulls her arms around her once more. A somber expression forms on her face. 

“I just wanted to help him.” She starts, biting at her lip and chewing some.

“Help him? Who is ‘him?”

“My brother, Eren.” She feels the tightening in the back of her throat return, an all-too-familiar sting at her eyes. Embarrassment heats the back of her neck at the thought of losing it in front of these two men, two complete strangers to her. 

“I think - “ She clears her throat. “I think if I had just minded my own business, none of this would’ve happened to me. I wouldn’t be here in this place… but, I don’t think he would be here at all if I hadn’t stepped in.” 

\--------------

It’s dusk, and the campus is quiet. The final weeks of school are drawing to a close, and Mikasa can feel the familiar ease of the tension in her shoulders as classes and exams finish up. She’s in the library, as per usual, basking in the print-smell of books, the deafening hush with the occasional _fwip_ of a page turning, the clacking of keys as students hurry to finish their essays. 

She sits alone, in the far reaches of the library and closest to the windows in a small nook hidden away behind the most obscure genre section. It’s laughably ironic, she muses as she begins to pack up her things - gently placing her laptop, books, and pens back in their proper pockets before zipping it up and slinging the tote over her shoulder. She adjusts her hair - long, the way everyone says they like it - and fixes the scarf around her neck. 

The action reminds her to check her phone, to check on Eren and let him know that they can head home for the day, reliant on her driving skills. 

She has five missed texts from Armin, all in increasing urgency. She feels a pit drop in her stomach, scrolling through them. A surge of guilt floods through her at the timestamps - an hour. 

_Hey, Mikasa. Sorry to bother you, I know you’re in the library studying, but do you know where Eren’s gone off to?_ 4:00 PM.

It’s 5:01 now. She keeps reading.

 _Hey, Mikasa - Sorry again! I tried looking for Eren and I haven’t been able to find him. He’s not in the gym like usual._ 4:09 PM.

She keeps scrolling until the last one, the most urgent and alarming one and she feels her heart sink. 

_Eren’s in trouble! We’re at the old playground behind the gym. Please come ASAP!_ 4:45 PM.

Before she can even think to put her books back or turn off the computer or even check that she has everything, she’s gone from the library in an instant, her feet carrying her through the halls and lobby, out the door, and towards the gym and the playgrounds. As she draws nearer, she can see the familiar blonde bob of Armin. She calls out, "Hey! Sorry, I had my phone on silent! What's wrong..." She trails off. 

When she's finally within a few feet of the boys, sweaty and out of breath, she sees so many things happening at once that she almost doesn’t believe it’s real. Doesn’t want to believe it’s real. She doesn’t want to believe that Eren is sitting on the cracked ground, high out of his mind and convulsing every few minutes, with a panicking Armin at his side. A bag of half-crushed Oxy sits spilled on the concrete. 

Mikasa feels a rush whirlwind of responses - shock, confusion, worry, anger, disappointment. She stays rooted to the spot, her knuckles white from the vice grip around her phone. 

Armin jumps up in relief at seeing her finally arrive. “Mikasa! Thank god you’re here! We have to get him to the nurse’s office.” His voice cracks as the words spill out and she barely registers what he’s saying, her gaze locked on Eren’s sweaty body. 

She hears Eren protest, saying that he doesn’t need to go to the nurse and that nobody can know. 

“Then, if not the nurse or the doctor’s, we need to tell Carla and Grisha, Eren.” She hears herself say as the grip on her phone tightens. “I’m calling them.”

“ _NO!_ ” The sound is so angry, so foreign to her. It scares her. 

And just as she hits dial on Carla’s number, Eren is off the ground and stumbling towards her, trying to wrestle the phone from her in a flurry of limbs and shouts. It’s a fight that lasts entirely too long for their age, entirely too unnecessary. A bombardment of slurred cusses and slaps assaults her, loud and virulent - borderline abusive. Mikasa does her best to keep him from the phone, although she isn’t sure if it’s still ringing. 

Everything happens too quickly - first the grappling is sloppy, and then it turns violent. At one point she feels a sharp sting on her left cheek, the knick of a nail grown too sharp tearing at her skin. She jerks back, disengaging from the scrap between her and him. And then she feels a fist take hold of her hair and pull hard. “ _Eren, stop!_ ” 

“You _can’t_ tell Mom and Dad!” He screams, his grip about as unrelenting as his determination to yank the phone from her. “I won’t let you!”

Mikasa tries her best to keep Eren at bay, and to keep him from ripping hair from her head she wraps her free hand around his wrist. They remain there, locked in a struggle. Mikasa notices that Armin has left, no doubt to find help. 

In the silence that lingers, Mikasa can hear the worried voice of Carla through the phone, and realizes that it’s been accidentally put on speaker. 

“Mikasa? Eren? Is everything okay? What’s going on?” Her blood runs cold.

She doesn’t know how long or how much Carla’s heard, and it doesn’t matter when Eren rips the phone from her hand and throws it into the ground hard enough to shatter the screen.

“Mikasa, you _bitch_! I fucking hate you.” His eyes are alight with anger, and it scares her and hurts her all at once. _I hate you._ The words leave her feeling ill. 

For the first time since they met, she recoils from Eren. 

Mikasa stands there, her body still and her mind blank. And as she’s standing there, with Eren heaving rapidly in front of her, she feels a wetness trickling down her face. She doesn’t think she’s crying, so she places a tentative hand to her face, her fingertips barely grazing the wetness when she realizes that she’s bleeding. When she looks at her hand, at the blood gracing her fingertips, she almost laughs in disbelief. 

The next few moments happen in a haze for her - Armin comes running back with one of the coaches. 

The Jaeger’s arrive, apparently in separate cars as she makes note.

Words are exchanged between them and the Principal and then they are free to leave. Mikasa goes with Grisha, who walks a few feet ahead of her with his mouth set in a grim line. She watches as Carla escorts Eren from the school, a firm hand placed on his shoulder. She's in too much shock to feel remotely smug at the thought of Eren getting scolded, because she knows it's now going to be ten times worse than a simple reprimanding.

She’s in the back of the car, Grisha’s specifically, her face bandaged and sore and her eyes tired as she leans against the window. There's the unspoken agreement that neither of them will talk the entire duration of the car ride, which is fine to Mikasa, and so she lets herself rest her eyes and drifts off into a restless nap.  
\--------------

“And that’s how it happened. The reason why I ended up here. I told you the outcome earlier. My brother thinks I ruined his life because I tried to help him, and I got sent off while they try to fix it at home." Mikasa concludes bitterly as she thumbs at the scar left behind from Eren. 

“I see. That’s a very complicated situation.” Erwin responds sympathetically, taking down more notes on her recount. 

She shifts in her seat, bowing her head slightly. 

“Are you doing okay? Do you need a break?” Erwin asks, looking at her sympathetically. 

“No, let’s just get this over with.”

“Alright. Let’s go back to what happened after the whole CPR situation.” 

\--------------

Mikasa awakes with a start at the sensation of a hand on her face, eyes snapping open and her mind jumping to an alertness that's a welcome change from her prior confusion. She’s flat on her back, the compacted sand and dirt pressed heavy against her. She wonders who carried her from the shoreline. She looks around before finding and meeting Ilse’s gaze. She sits up abruptly, eyes wide with surprise.

“You’re okay. You made it.” She breathes out.

“I did.” Ilse gives her a somber little smile and nod. “Thanks to you and the others.”

They stare at each other for brief moments, until Ilse abruptly pulls her into an awkward hug. She can feel the other girl’s fingers twist into the salt-soaked fabric of her shirt. She isn’t sure what to do other than put one arm around Ilse in return. She isn’t sure what this is for. "Uh -"

"I'm so sorry." The tone is entirely too apologetic and sincere to be said out of courtesy, and Mikasa isn't sure why but she can sense that there's an underlying meaning to the other girl's words. But, she says nothing, and places one arm around Ilse in return. 

"Uh, you're fine..." She says awkwardly, patting her a few times on the back. "There's nothing to be sorry for. I didn't mind getting us both to land." Ilse pulls back from this, placing her hands on her shoulders now instead. She shakes her head, furthering Mikasa's confusion. 

She doesn't say anything more, just nods until Ilse is satisfied with her response. "Where are the others?" She asks, looking around the secluded patch they're sitting in. Waves crash against rocks, arrhythmic noise beating down in scattered intervals. Ilse offers her a hand, and pulls her to her feet. At her full height, Mikasa stands a few inches taller than her, enough to see the top of her head. 

"They're all over there. Come on, we'll join them." She smiles as she pulls Mikasa along, her grip light on her wrist. Mikasa lets herself be pulled along, and as they round the bend she sees the other seven sitting scattered amongst the rocks. Krista, Ymir, and Sasha sit in one little cluster; Annie and Pieck are huddled shoulder to shoulder; Hitch and Mina sit individually, spread out a little further than the rest. As they draw nearer, Mikasa can see several cans of what look to be soda and complimentary pretzel bags gathered in a small pile in the center. 

"Hey, you're awake!" Sasha greets as they join, offering a genuine but tired little grin as they take a seat. Mikasa just blinks and then nods, her mouth opening briefly before closing again. She chooses a spot near, but not close, to Annie and Pieck and tucks her knees to her chest, hugging them with her arms. She keeps her eyes forward, trying to take up as little attention as possible. She feels eyes on her, and catches Annie looking at her with a bored expression before looking away and back to Pieck. 

"Ok - this shit sucks. Does anyone have their phone on them?" Ymir stands up, clapping loudly to get the group's attention and surveying them intently. Nobody responds and nobody checks their pocket. The answer is already evident. "Seriously? _Nobody_ managed to hold on to their phone?" Ymir lets out a noise of disgust as she begins pacing impatiently. 

"Well, even if one of us did it's not like it would work out here." Hitch pipes up, speaking matter-of-factly. Mikasa agrees, but doesn't say anything.

"I'm just trying to figure out our options." Ymir snarks, hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. Krista stands, taking her place at Ymir's side and loops an arm through the taller girl's. Mikasa notices how easily Ymir relaxes with Krista's presence, and silently thanks that the girls came in a pair. Ymir is cocky and outgoing, snarky with a dominating personality. Mikasa decides that if Ymir had been without Krista, things would be much more unpleasant than they are.

"I think we should try and prioritize for now." Krista rationalizes, looking between the others. "We should see if we can find more drinks and snacks that might've washed up, and then figure out what to do at night." 

A murmur of unanimous agreement rises up at her suggestions. Sasha stands, dusting the seat of her pants off with a few quick swipes. “We should go look for fresh water. There might be some in the woods. Does anyone else want to come?” 

For whatever reason, Mikasa finds herself standing abruptly and volunteering. “I’ll go.” She sees Sasha’s surprised expression change to a grin as she nods, walking over to her. 

“Awesome. Thank you.” Sasha says, briefly patting her on the shoulder as she passes by her. Mikasa silently follows behind, keeping a few paces back. For as nice and sincere as Sasha has been towards her, and for whatever her own reasons, she finds herself still guarded and on edge from past experiences with ‘nice girls’. Don’t be so judgmental. You don’t even know her, she mentally chides herself. Mikasa gives a last glance back at the others as they round the corner. 

\--[]--

“So, I don’t think we’ve ever hung out before, have we?” Mikasa startles slightly at the question and notices that Sasha’s slowed her pace to match hers, walking alongside her with her hands clasped behind her head, ponytail swaying with each step. "You know, at school?" 

“Uh, no. I guess we haven’t.” Mikasa replies awkwardly. She realizes just how limited her interactions have been during her time at school, keeping close to just Eren and Armin. She realizes that it’s been her conscious choice to self-isolate from her peers.

“I know it’s not the most ideal location, but we could change that!” Sasha replies cheerfully, keeping her pace matched with hers. “You know - solidarity and all that. I feel like in times like these, you need a friend, you know?” Mikasa gives her a thoughtful nod.

They fall into a cordial silence, the sound of the beach crashing behind them and the birds of the forest calling out before them. Their footsteps fall in rhythmic patterns. Mikasa subtly - or what she hopes is subtly - studies Sasha as they walk. She’s never really taken the time to notice the other girl, despite having gone to the same school for forever. 

“So… you know how to find water out here?” Mikasa inquires tentatively, not sure if the question is stupid or simply a testament to her inner-city lifestyle. “I’ve never even been camping before, so I don't --.” 

She hears Sasha laugh - it’s a clear sound, bright and cheery much like its owner. The other girl must've sensed her confused embarrassment, because she says “I’m sorry. I just imagined you camping. But like, with the whole Khakis and holding a fish up in a photo stereotype kind of camping.” She snickers to herself a little longer before exhaling. “My dad takes me and my siblings on a month-long camping and hunting road trip every summer, and teaches us survival skills. Well, except for this year, obviously…” She trails off, her grin faltering some. Mikasa’s about to say something that she hopes is comforting, but the other girl bounces back with ease. “It isn’t all bad, though! At least we have each other.”

Mikasa hums a noise in response, to give Sasha an indication that she’s still listening. They continue along a faint path carved into the brambles, climbing up a small incline along the way. Mikasa’s thankful she chose to wear practical shoes, instead of something like sandals, for the flight. 

After a while of walking, Sasha stops abruptly and Mikasa almost runs her over. She lets her hands rest on her knees, catching her breath as she watches the other girl look around before turning back to her, her honey-brown eyes trained on her. 

“Damn. I don’t think we’re on the right side of the island. Nothing over here tells me that there’s any water nearby.” Sasha says matter-of-factly, placing one hand to her chin and her brow furrowing slightly in thoughtful contemplation. After a moment she relents, sighing and stretching her arms. “Let’s head back. It’s starting to get dark.” 

Mikasa simply nods once more, allowing Sasha to lead and for herself to simply follow in a much needed change of pace. 

When they arrive back to the rest of the group, Mikasa can see that they’ve dispersed and divvied up tasks - Annie, Pieck, and Mina taking inventory of the already collected items - a few carry-ons, snack food, soda; Ymir and Krista are further down the beach, wading knee-deep in the shallows of the water, collecting more cans and anything else they can find. She sees Hitch and Ilse sitting idly by - Hitch, running her fingers through her hair in a fruitless attempt to detangle it, and Ilse with a pensive look on her face, her improved mood seemingly gone from when she woke her up. Mikasa makes a mental note to check on Ilse later.

“We didn’t find any water, not on this side of the island.” Sasha says as they come up to them, shaking her head in mild disappointment and offering an apologetic smile. “Sorry, guys.”

“Well that’s not your fault. Thank you for looking!” It’s Mina that speaks up this time, looking up from counting bag upon bag of complimentary pretzels and nuts from the galley. “So, we've currently got 10 cans of diet soda, and _so many_ bags of pretzels and nuts.” She pauses, giving some thought to what else they had managed to scrounge up. “Oh! We also have a phone and a lighter, now.” 

“I didn’t realize I had mine in a pocket, and Annie had a lighter. Our bad.” Pieck explains, shrugging apologetically. “We have them buried in the sand, as an alternative to rice.” 

“That’s good. Let’s hope it works.” Mikasa finds herself saying as she takes a seat, tucking her knees to her chest. She feels a little relief when the other girls nod in agreement. 

She watches the three girls continue their inventory and really starts to take them in. Annie, seemingly always pissed off at something and quiet. Mikasa always thought that she was the quiet one, but Annie hasn’t said a single word since before the plane crash. If there wasn’t that sense of being kindred spirits, Mikasa would’ve thought she was weird and a little creepy, if she was being honest. And then Pieck - a girl a shade stranger than Annie or herself, but in an oddly endearing way. _Like a cat_ , Mikasa idly thinks. And Mina, she didn’t have much of an impression of her yet, but she seemed kind and caring, and - 

“AUGH, I JUST STUBBED MY FUCKING TOE.” 

A loud yell interrupts her thoughts, and all of them turn their heads in the direction of the source. Mikasa sees Ymir bouncing on one leg in the water, a litany of passionate “FUCKs” resounding in the air. The tall freckled girl pulls a suitcase from the water, letting out one last “FUCK,” before storming over to them. As they get closer, she sees that Krista is dragging another, smaller hard-shell suitcase behind her. 

Ymir practically slams the heavy case down in front of Hitch, who startles from picking at her nails and nearly falls off the rock she’s perched on. “Your fucking suitcase almost broke my toe.” Ymir snarls out, turning on her heel to walk away almost as quickly as she had approached Hitch, stomping off to sit and nurse her foot.

Mikasa watches as Krista shyly and tentatively approaches Annie, gently tapping her on the shoulder. “Um, this is your bag, right? A. Leonhardt?” Krista places the suitcase in front of her, offering Annie the rights to her bag. 

“Yeah. Thanks.” It's the first time Annie’s spoken since their plane took off. Krista gives her a sincere smile and nods, unsure whether or not to leave, before ultimately bounding back to Ymir to dote on her. Just as Annie goes about unzipping her bag, Hitch does the same. 

“So what’s in that ridiculously heavy suitcase of yours, Hitch?” There’s an almost antagonizing tone in Ymir’s voice that Hitch just sneers at in return, rolling her eyes as she combs through its contents.

"Some athleisure, cute looks." Hitch replies, holding up some of the articles of clothing and laying them down flat on the rocks. "Nothing that would suit you, Ymir." She finishes her jibe at the taller girl by sticking her tongue out at her like a petulant child and Ymir bristles, glaring at the prissy girl before deciding she isn't worth it. Ymir turns her attention towards Annie. 

"What about you? What do you have in there?" 

Instead of responding, Annie simply motions to the open case as if to say _"You're welcome to get up and come look for yourself._ " The intent behind her motion must've reached Ymir, because she gets up in a huff and saunters over, crouching as she begins to pilfer through Annie's stuff.

"You really brought twelve hoodies on a summer trip to Hawaii?" Ymir asks condescendingly, holding up a white hoodie similarly identical to the one Annie has on.

"It’s a good thing we’re nowhere near Hawaii, then." Annie deadpans, her bored expression unwavering as she looks up at Ymir. “Do you want to use them or not?”

Ymir sighs. “Fine. We’ll keep them in there for now so they stay dry.” She stands again, stretching her arms above her head and Mikasa hears her shoulder pop. “I’m going to check on the phone, see if it’ll actually fucking work.” She grumbles, sauntering off towards a small mound of sand marked with a stick. It only takes a few moments for Ymir to yell out, "The phone's working!" that each girl is on her feet and running in Ymir's direction. 

As they pile around the taller girl, Mikasa can sense the tension of the moment - one phone, questionable service and battery life. They have one chance to dial out, if they can at all, and the other girl's must've sensed this too because nobody volunteers to call anyone yet. "How much battery?" She asks, biting her lip and bracing herself for an inevitably less-than-positive response. 

"Like, 10%." Ymir sighs out, glancing at the phone before letting it return to sleep mode. "Which means we have to know exactly who we're going to try and call. If you know a number by heart and you know they'll be by their phone, use that." 

A moment of silence passes over them as they all filter through their contacts - the ones they know by heart, the ones they don't. Mikasa's mind filters through her limited contacts - the Jaeger's, Eren, and Armin are the first to come to mind. But she doesn't know if she should reach out to any of them, she doesn't know where she stands after everything that happened. She resolves to call Armin, as he's the most removed from the situation. She just hopes that he'll pick up, if they're able to dial out. 

"Ok - who wants to try first." Ymir holds the phone out to Pieck. "It's your phone." But Pieck simply shakes her head, raising a hand to pass. 

"I'll try. If I know my folks, they’re probably pacing holes into the floor.” Sasha offers, and Mikasa can’t help but wonder if the statement is more of a comfort for the other girl than anything else as she watches the girl take the phone, dialing with shaking hands. 

The seconds pass and in the silence they can hear the familiar ringing and then, loudest of all, the beep, beep, beep of a signal lost. Sasha looks at the phone, her optimism faltering. “That’s not like them at all…” 

“Let me try. As much as I hate to, my father might - “ Krista offers, only to be cut off by Ymir sharply protesting. 

“We’re not calling those assholes, Krista!” Ymir says firmly, pulling the phone from Krista. Mikasa almost moves to step between them, the situation entirely too similar to what happened between her and Eren. But she stays rooted in the spot. It’s not my business, she thinks, pursing her lips and biting her tongue. 

“Here, let me try. My parents have international plans.” Hitch says, pulling the phone from Krista and Ymir’s grasp. She quickly taps in the number, placing the phone to her ear. 

The arguing between Ymir and Krista extends to the others and a wave of continuous chatter rises amongst them. Hitch steps away, plugging one ear in annoyance. Mikasa remains quiet, on the sidelines and alone - how it always is, or was? She isn’t sure of where she stands with the others. 

And in the following moment everything erupts at once - the cacophony of complaints and confusion from the group, Ilse running past her, Hitch waiting with bated breath for the phone to work.

As Ilse brushes past her, bumping shoulders, Mikasa reaches for her. “Hey, are you okay?” Her fingers brush the other girl’s wrist. 

And all Ilse can do is give her a remorseful, apologetic look before collapsing. Mikasa’s grip on her wrist tightens in an effort to catch her, and she manages to cradle the girl in her arms. They both collapse, Mikasa pulled down by the weight of Ilse. She manages to lay the girl flat, but it’s too late. An awful feeling fills her gut, and Mikasa can’t help the tears that well up in her eyes. 

She checks Ilse’s pulse and feels nothing. Mikasa exhales sharply, daring herself to look at the girl’s abdomen. She lets her hands peel back the fabric of her shirt, and she wants nothing more than to rewind time at the sight of Ilse’s stomach, a deep purple splotched with red. 

“G-guys?” Mikasa manages to call out, turning her head to look at the other girls. They quiet as they look in her direction, their bickering stopping instantly.

“She… she’s dead.”

\--[]--

In the aftermath of the day's events, Mikasa finds her mind wandering back to Ilse, unable to shake that a girl had died in her arms. That a girl had died in her arms after she blatantly told her that she'd be ok. They had carried Ilse's body in a scavenged tarp, burying her in the sand a good distance from their campsite. _How stupid..._ , she berates herself, as she sits with the others huddled around the campfire that Sasha had built for them. There's a somber shroud of silence draping over them, a mutual unspoken respect for the dead. The crackling of the fire and the lull of the waves behind them are the only noise. 

Mikasa, in her usual position of sitting with her knees tucked to her chest, notices Krista shivering slightly and leaning as far into Ymir as she can for warmth. She sees Annie reach into her suitcase, pulling one of the twelve hoodies from it's depths and pass it to Krista. She continues passing them out, and Mikasa notes that, while they're all vaguely different in one way or another, they all have a varsity logo on them. One of them is shoved into her arms, and she's pulled from her thoughts looking up and directly into Annie's eyes. "Sorry if it's a little small." She says as she walks back to her seat, hands tucked into the front pockets and shoulders hunched. 

When she does put it on, she finds that it is a bit snug but not in an unpleasant way, like a hug slightly too tight. Mikasa notes that it smells faintly of fresh laundry and weed. It seems strangely befitting of the blonde. The other girls, now also clad in Annie's hoodies, sit still for a moment until Krista speaks up. "Would it be... weird, if we played an ice breaker? The one that Ilse suggested?" She pauses, her big blue eyes scanning the other girls' faces for any opposition. When she finds none, she continues softly. "It just seems right." 

"I'll start." Sasha pipes up, raising a hand.

"If we're gonna play we'll need these." Ymir interjects, pulling small bottles from the pockets of her joggers and tossing one to each of them. "If you've done something, drink up." She cracks the top off of hers and takes a lengthy sip.

"But, we haven't even started, though." Sasha’s voice takes on an exasperated tone as she watches Ymir down a single bottle in one go. “Whatever - ok, um… never have I ever had full on sex!” 

There’s a groan at the cliché from the group as Ymir, Krista, Hitch, and Annie take a drink from their bottles. “That’s like, the most cliché question in the handbook, Sasha.” Hitch says bluntly as she wipes at her mouth with her hand. 

“Ok - then, never have I ever had a threesome.” Ymir retorts, smirking as she watches Hitch take a deep swig. "Or a threesome with two guys." Another swig. "While on my period and up the ass." 

Hitch motions to take another drink, but pauses, laughing at them. "I'm not that freaky. Please." 

And something breaks at that, the dam of tension that nobody wanted to break earlier breaks now - at them being normal teens, even if for a moment, doing normal teen shit. Mikasa finds herself smiling, laughing lightly along with the others, and for once thinks that despite their circumstances she might actually be a welcome benefit, rather than a seemingly unwanted burden. They continue like this for the next half hour, continuing with their game and drinking until the bottles run low before setting up and settling in for the night. 

\--------------

"You're tired. We'll stop for today." Erwin says matter-of-factly, placing his pen down and clasping his hands together on the desk. He has a look of worry on his face, his brows furrowed as he looks at her with those piercing eyes. She is tired, admittedly. Her eyes feel heavy and her shoulders and legs ache from sitting for so long. "The doctors really need you to rest up." 

She nods, only half listening to him. She blinks a few times before parting her lips to speak again. "There is one thing... before we end today." She pauses, watching them. "Something I haven't told the others." She exhales heavily, rolling her neck in an attempt to mask the lingering shame she feels on keeping such a secret. "There was this... ringing. It happened in the dead of night, and nobody else heard it."

\--------------

Mikasa finds a small patch of grass and drier sand close enough to the campfire to feel its warmth. She settles against the ground with her arms and scarf tucked beneath her head as a makeshift pillow. She doesn't think sleep will come easily, but before she knows it she's out. She doesn't dream and she doesn't know how long has gone by when she hears ringing, distant and muffled but persistent. She sits up, looking in its direction. She's confused at first, her head still full of sleep-addled fog and then she's running in its direction. Towards Ilse's makeshift grave. To where nobody had even thought to look. 

She drops to her knees and starts digging without thinking, her mind only on finding the phone. She tries to not think about how she's frisking a corpse as she reaches further into the sand and dirt, searching until her fingers find the telltale silhouette and pulls it from Ilse's pocket. She almost gasps as she looks down at it and her fingers work faster than her brain. For whatever reason compels her, she taps in Eren's number and hits call. She places it to her ear, relieved to hear it ringing. She's not sure why, but she just hopes Eren will pick up and stay long enough for her to get help. 

Finally, she's connected, and wants to cry at hearing his familiar voice. "Hello? Who is this?" 

"Eren..." She starts, keeping her voice low. She doesn't know why it's so hard to say what she wants, and in the silence Eren speaks again. His voice holds the same vitriol as before. 

"Mikasa? What the fuck?" He spits out on the other end, and Mikasa regrets her decision to call him instead of Armin. 

"Eren, I -- " And just as quickly as their conversation starts it ends cruelly and abruptly. She looks at the dead phone in frustration, all hope she had wrenched from her hands once more. Mikasa grits her teeth, her frustration reaching its tipping point as she slams one fist into the sand, bending at the waist and letting out a silent scream.

\--------------

"So nobody knows that you were able to dial out?" It's Levi that asks the question this time, his voice bored and callous as usual - indifferent, almost. "Why didn't you tell the others?"

"What was I going to say? I managed to call my brother but he hates me enough to not even ask about me?" She scoffs, shaking her head and letting the shorter strands dance around her face. "I mean, not only is that embarrassing but it's nobody's business but my own."

She pauses, contemplating something before clicking her tongue. 

"Did he ever call in?" She asks, her words hitching in her throat at the onset of tears. "Did he ever worry or wonder?" 

Levi and Erwin look at one another, then back to her. "We, of course, had a lot of calls once the news broke. We didn't keep tabs of all of them." Erwin offers apologetically and Mikasa just nods, letting the tears spill finally. She nods bitterly, biting at her lip. 

"I'll leave with this - when you talk to the others, pick us apart, just remember that there is no "crazy," there never was. There's only damage."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: and that's chapter 2, end of Day 1 and Mikasa's recounting.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!
> 
> Please like, subscribe, and comment if you'd like to see more and feel free to follow me on social (@Bioswear) on Twitter and Tumblr!


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